Trips to the Tavern
by DwaejiTokki
Summary: When Arthur finds out that his manservant has left for the tavern AGAIN, he's royally pissed. Luckily he manages to catch up with Merlin, and Gwaine joins along the way. But when Merlin turns out to be going out into the woods, they tail him and discover a rather incriminating secret...(Merlin x Mordred, not a magic reveal, OOC-ness).


Trips to the Tavern

**Summary**: When Arthur finds out that his manservant has left for the tavern AGAIN, he's royally pissed. Luckily he manages to catch up with Merlin, and Gwaine joins along the way. But when Merlin turns out to be going out into the woods, they tail him and discover a rather incriminating secret...(Merlin x Mordred, not a magic reveal, OOC-ness probably).

**Rating**: T, for lovey-dovey romance I guess

**Disclaimer**: I don't normally support Merlin / Mordred, but honestly I couldn't resist. Also, I don't own any of the characters or setting.

The door opened with a bang so forceful that Gaius nearly spilled an entire rack of his experiments. Luckily, he was well acclimated to Merlin's comings and goings, and he easily righted the tubes before disaster occurred.

"Gaius," Arthur said as he stormed in, leather belt in hand and blond hair tousled every which way, "where is Merlin?"

Gaius regarded him as solemnly as he possibly could, which took a great deal of concentration. "He's not here, I'm afraid," he said at last.

The king's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Where is he then? The tavern?"

Before Gaius could deny the accusation, Arthur spun on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him. A bundle of herbs was shaken from its hook and fell to the floor. Gaius sighed, but knowing there was nothing to be done returned to his work.

As the king walked briskly out to the courtyard, he struggled to fasten his belt around his waist correctly. Merlin had shown up that morning, apparently, since his breakfast was laid out and the curtains opened. Merlin had, in his obnoxiously cheery voice, cried, "Rise and shine, Sire!" and before Arthur could throw anything in his direction, the manservant had ducked out the door and disappeared.

If Arthur had been in any right state of mind, he might have remembered that he'd told Merlin to wake him up in the morning and then he could have a well-earned day off. But as it was with his usual rude awakening, he didn't, and so was after his manservant's blood.

He spotted Merlin's ridiculous outfit ahead of him. An evil smirk made its way onto his lips, and he quickened his pace to intercept him. So focused he was on apprehending his wayward servant that his reflexes were hindered, and he crashed headlong into another man who was too busy to observe his surroundings.

"Oof!" Arthur grunted, automatically reaching out to steady the other. "Gwaine!"

"Princess," the man replied coolly, regarding the king with an arched eyebrow and archaic grin. "What brings you out on this fine morning?"

Arthur's eyes distractedly roamed the street. The crowd was thickening, effectively shielding Merlin from view. "Damn," he muttered, scowling. "I'm following that idiot Merlin to the tavern."

Gwaine's eyebrows raised. "Merlin's gone to the tavern? And he didn't invite me? Let's go, then." With that, the king and his knight hurried forward into the throng of people, casting their gazes about for the familiar, skinny frame and mop of dark hair.

"There," Arthur said, gesturing ahead.

Merlin was weaving expertly through the crowd, smiling and waving at anyone who called out to him. He didn't stop, though, and the citizens who noticed him didn't seem surprised. Arthur supposed they knew about the manservant's atrocious drinking habits as well. It did little to improve his mood, and his glowering eyes bore into the man's back. Gwaine seemed oblivious to Arthur's ire, and was walking with a spring in his step at the prospect of the tankards that awaited him. As Arthur thought, Merlin was headed straight toward The Rising Sun, one of Gwaine's usual haunts.

"Ah," Gwaine said cheerily, "they do have the best mead in town."

Both of their eyebrows shot up in surprise as Merlin passed the tavern without even sparing it a glance. Then they both furrowed their brows in confusion; there was no other tavern along this route. In fact, it looked as though Merlin were leaving the city entirely.

"Hm," Gwaine said thoughtfully. "Did Gaius perhaps send him out on errands?"

Arthur frowned. "I don't think so. I went to see Gaius, and he hadn't said anything of that sort."

"Then I s'pose we'll find out, then," Gwaine said lightly, though it was obvious he was a bit concerned. Arthur, too, felt a bit put out by Merlin's apparent secrecy, but decided it would be all right. Once he figured out what it was, he would confront him, and pile a load of unnecessary chores on his scrawny shoulders. Mucking out the stables, of course. Ah, and the dungeons haven't been swept in about...seven hundred years or so. That would do nicely.

As they followed Merlin out into the forest, it became apparent that Merlin knew precisely where he was going. He didn't bother to look back and see if he was being followed, and his route left little to the imagination. There was a small trail he followed, though it was obviously little traveled. It must have been made by him, considering how confident he was going about it. Arthur frowned. He supposed then that Merlin's trips to the tavern were lies to cover up where he was really going.

He wracked his memory, trying to figure out where Merlin was headed. As far as he knew, out in his direction there was nothing but trees. Perhaps he was meeting someone? That thought nearly made Arthur laugh aloud. Merlin, meeting someone? If it was a girl, it was preposterous. But who else could it be? A friend? If so, why didn't they just see one another in Camelot?

A forbidden thought entered his mind then: Was he meeting an enemy?

But he shook his head immediately. Merlin would never do that, of course. That was even more preposterous than his meeting a girl!

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Arthur remembered that he'd told no one where he was going, and that he missing knight training. Oh well. Leon could handle it. If he wasn't back by noon he'd reveal himself to Merlin and drag him back so as to not miss the council meeting. If Arthur had to be bored for two hours, then Merlin had to be, too.

Gwaine suddenly stopped, snapping Arthur out of his musings. He spared a glance to Gwaine, who was staring ahead in awe, slack-jawed. Frowning, Arthur looked forward as well. His mouth dropped open as well once greeted with the sight before him. A beautiful, glittering lake shined in the sunlight before him, a backdrop of snowy mountains in the distance. Before all this Merlin stood, apparently breathing deeply in the serene atmosphere.

Both Gwaine and Arthur had the sense to duck behind trees when Merlin moved again. But Merlin did not look back; rather, he sat down and then lay with his fingers interlocked behind his head. Arthur couldn't see if he was sleeping or not, but he wouldn't put it past him.

Arthur wondered why on earth Merlin would pretend to be going to the tavern when really he was coming to this beautiful place. The king had never known of its existence, and he'd lived in Camelot all his life. It was strange. But, he supposed, maybe even Merlin wanted a bit of time to himself to just relax. He felt a bit guilty about how hard he'd been working his servant. Yes, he always called him incompetent and lazy, but he knew that Merlin always did his best. For crying out loud, before he came to Camelot and saved his life, he was a simple farmer! He knew nothing of armor or horses or washing floors or attending feasts. Arthur was fairly certain that Merlin had followed other servants around or pestered Gwen for answers. But he was a fast learner, and quickly got the hang of what he needed to do. Merlin wasn't an idiot by a long shot, but his head was already too big for Arthur to ever admit that.

He was about to motion for Gwaine to quietly sneak away with him. He would let Merlin have his free time today. Anyway, he'd just remembered that he'd actually given him the day off. The king would never admit that, though. It was Merlin's fault for not reminding him and making him waste his precious time tramping along the woods after the idiot.

Arthur stopped short when he noticed movement in the trees on the other side of the clearing. He narrowed his eyes and moved his hand to his sword - only to remember that he hadn't brought it. He cursed himself. He turned to Gwaine, but the knight had already noticed and was gripping his own hilt. His intense gaze was focused on the movement, and his muscles coiled as a cloaked figure emerged.

Both were ready to jump out and defend their friend, Gwaine silently and slowly unsheathing his weapon. His hand froze when Merlin spoke, "You're late, Mordred."

The figure reached up and lowered his hood, and a man only a few years younger than them. His pale face was round and framed by curly dark hair. His pink lips were turned up in an amused smile, and his icy eyes twinkled. "A Druid is never late. Besides, you're one to talk. You're always late."

"Not today."

"I can see that."

As the conversation occurred, Arthur was dumbstruck, frozen in place. Merlin, consorting with a sorcerer. No, it couldn't be. Impossible. No. No.

Gwaine seemed equally surprised, but his wariness was more directed toward Arthur. No doubt he would defend Merlin first. Arthur shook his head and honed in on the traitors' conversation. He would find something incriminating, have the sorcerer put to death, and banish Merlin. That was all that could be done. His fists shook, every muscle in his body taut.

"How's Arthur?" asked Mordred, lying down beside Merlin and looking up at the clear blue sky.

A cold sense of dread clenched the pit of Arthur's stomach. Merlin had been divulging information about him. Was the whole friendship a lie? Did he save his life all those years ago just to grow close to him?

"Prattish, as usual," was Merlin answer. "I don't know how I ever got the day off today."

"Well, I am glad you did."

"As am I."

They fell silent, content to just lie in one another's company. After a few moments, Mordred propped himself up onto his elbows, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What's wrong?"

Mordred worried his lower lip. "No," he said at last, shaking his head. "It's nothing."

Merlin lifted his head and looked at Mordred sternly. "No, it's something. Tell me."

"It's just," Mordred broke off, looking embarrassed. "I know we Druids have been pardoned and are left alone, but I can't help but to wonder what might happen should someone discover us together."

Arthur balked. Did Mordred know of his presence. Gwaine appeared to be thinking along the same lines, but neither of them were about to pop out and announce themselves.

Merlin frowned. "Hm," he said, lying back down. "Well, I suppose it depends on who it is."

"Gaius?"

"Already knows."

Anger flared in Arthur's chest. So the old man was lying for Merlin, too. Treason!

"Gwen?"

"Ha," Merlin chuckled fondly, "she'd be a bit flustered at first, I s'pose."

"Would she tell Arthur?"

Merlin fell into a contemplative silence. "Not if I asked her not to. She would only tell if she thought I might be in danger. Or if Arthur specifically asked...Why? Did you meet Gwen somehow?"

"No," Mordred said quickly. "It's all hypothetical."

"Oh."

"Honestly, it is!" Mordred insisted. "I don't venture into Camelot. You know I don't."

"I know." Merlin flashed him a grin. "Why are you so worried? I've the day off, it's a beautiful day, we've got our own personal lake here, and each other to boot!"

Mordred smirked and flopped back down. "You're right."

Gwaine's mouth dropped open in surprise, but shut again just as quickly. His lips twisted into a knowing smirk, and Arthur narrowed his eyes at him in confusion. The knight grinned cheekily and waggled his eyebrows at Arthur, which only served to confuse him more.

"Mordred," Merlin said quietly.

"Yes?"

"We should have a picnic someday."

"A picnic?"

"Yes."

"Romantic, are you?" asked the Druid dryly.

Merlin made a noncommittal noise, but he was grinning like an idiot.

Suddenly Mordred rolled over, straddling Merlin. Arthur twitched before he remembered that Merlin was a traitor and did not deserve his help. The Druid pinned Merlin's hands above his head, smiling down a bit shyly. Merlin smiled back.

Arthur nearly choked when Mordred slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips against Merlin's. Merlin kissed back.

Gwaine was grinning ear to ear at the display of obvious affection. Arthur was all sorts of emotions - appalled, shocked, angered, confused, and even somehow...touched. But what the hell?!

Merlin, his manservant, and Mordred, a Druid, kissing? Kissing?! Kissing meant love. But Merlin and Mordred couldn't be in love! For one thing, they were both men! Arthur peered more closely at Mordred chest, but there was no mistaking that he was a very mature man. When they pulled apart, Arthur felt dizzy.

He must be dreaming. Yes, that was it. He was dreaming of his manservant having a love affair with a male Druid, and he and Gwaine were watching from behind trees. And Gwaine was grinning largely, as though he entirely approved of the whole thing.

Arthur stood swiftly but silently, motioning for Gwaine to follow him. Gwaine did, and with one last backward glance to be sure that they were unseen, they left back the way they had come. The king's expression was stoic, but his eyes showed his conflicting, tumultuous emotions. He was waging war against his morals, against everything he had grown up believing, and the knight was watching him warily as they walked side by side.

It was obvious that Merlin was very much in love. Why would he risk disappearing so often otherwise? Why else would he lie about the tavern trips, when if Arthur could just ask and discover that lie? But such love was forbidden...Wasn't it?

Arthur had pardoned the Druids. But Merlin had been having tavern trips long before those persecutions had been lifted. So that meant that he was betraying Arthur at nearly every turn.

But men did strange things for love, didn't they? Arthur knew he did, when it came to Gwen.

But Gwen wasn't a Druid. She wasn't a sorceress.

Mordred was. And Merlin was in love with him? Could it be an enchantment? Why? What did Mordred have to gain? And if that were the case, why did Mordred seem so uncertain that others know of their relationship?

It was all just so confusing!

When they reached Camelot again, Arthur immediately dismissed Gwaine, telling him shortly to find Gwen and inform her that he was retiring with a fierce headache. For once, Gwaine didn't complain, but he did leave parting words: "He's happy, Arthur. Let him have it. He never asks anything of you."

Arthur paused, but otherwise didn't acknowledge him.

He spent the majority of the evening pacing his rooms, leaning on his window sill and staring out, and running his hands through his hair. Why couldn't he make the decision? All he needed to do was confront Merlin. Arthur would be furious if the manservant had the gall to deny his affair. Hell, he'd be furious if Merlin admitted it, too. How dare he keep something like that from him? How dare he lie? The traitorous bastard! Eventually, Arthur ran himself ragged and sat heavily in his desk chair. But it didn't stop him from thinking.

After the sun had set much later, the king still found himself worrying and fuming. The door slammed open, and in came the subject of his ire: Merlin, carrying a tray laden with the king's dinner.

"Hope you're hungry, Sire!" he said in a chipper tone. It was more cheery than usual; as Arthur thought back, he realized that he was always happier after his tavern trips. Tavern trips, indeed.

It took Arthur a moment that Merlin was giving him an expectant look, waiting to be chastised for his lateness or some other quip. The king cleared his throat. "I've been thinking," he said stiffly.

At his tone, Merlin tensed, obviously aware that something was wrong. Still, he replied a bit nervously, "I do hope you haven't hurt yourself."

"I've decided," Arthur ignored him, "to give you one day off a week, not including the ones you spend with me on patrol or other things of such nature."

If Merlin had still been holding the dinner, he'd have dropped it all over the floor in surprise. Eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline, he searched Arthur's face for the joke. But Arthur was dead serious. "Oh," the manservant said at last, beaming. "Thank you."

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly. "So you don't have to sneak off to the tavern now, Merlin."

A red tinge crept into his cheeks, but he grinned all the same. "Right, Sire." He turned away and began to tidy up the room, as he hadn't done it earlier that morning. As Merlin worked, Arthur watched him intently. He seemed no different than usual.

Merlin, feeling the king's gaze stood straight and gave him a curious look. "Aren't you going to eat, Arthur? Unless, of course, you've finally decided to cut back a bit, in which case -"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said, standing. He skirted around his desk and made his way to the table. Merlin rolled his eyes and turned back to his chores. Arthur sat and stared intently at Merlin's back.

Merlin, feeling it again, stood and turned fully. "What is it?" he asked, exasperated. The empty water pitcher he was polishing dangled in the hand opposite of the one holding a clean cloth.

"I need you to pass along a message," Arthur said coolly.

The manservant frowned. "To whom?"

"The next time you see him," Arthur said, pulling a face, "tell him that he should at least try to comb his hair. And what kind of a name is Mordred?"

There was a loud clatter as the pitcher suddenly met the floor. Arthur glanced up to see Merlin looking horrified. Satisfaction filled him, but it was quickly replaced with a tiny worm of guilt when he saw the way the man was shaking and his wide, saucer-like eyes were watering. The satisfaction he felt was erased completely when Merlin dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the floor.

"Please!" he said desperately. "I'm sorry, I've never meant to lie or to keep it from you, I swear, Arthur."

"Merlin," Arthur started, holding up a placating hand and looking very uncomfortable. He'd only meant to startle him, not terrorize him!

But Merlin, with his face to the floor, did see him. "Please spare him, Arthur, please. He's done no wrong. You've saved him before, you know? Remember, he's the little Druid boy you hid from your father! Please don't kill him!"

"Merlin," Arthur stood.

Merlin heard the scraping of the chair and bolted upright, clasping his hands in a prayer. Arthur was taken aback to see the tears spilling from his eyes. "Kill me, banish me, but please spare him! I am begging you, Arthur, please."

"Shut up, Merlin!" Arthur groaned. "I was just joking with you!"

"Huh?" Merlin's brow furrowed in confusion, tears stopping.

"Get up, you idiot," the king sighed. "I'm not killing you or your lover, nor am I banishing either of you."

"You're not angry?" he whispered, pushing himself up onto his shaky legs. He dragged a hand down his face to wipe away the wetness, eyes filling with hope.

"Oh, no," Arthur frowned, "I most definitely am, Merlin. I might have liked to know about something like this, rather than finding out by following my idiot manservant out into the middle of the woods."

"You followed me?" Merlin frowned.

"You'd have noticed if you weren't such an idiot."

"Prat."

"Dollop-head."

"That's my word!"

"Merlin?"

"Shut up?"

Arthur nodded approvingly. "Oh, and I suppose I should warn you. I wasn't the only one who followed you. Gwaine was with me."

Merlin groaned loudly in dismay.

"Indeed," Arthur smirked. "Well," he clapped Merlin on the shoulder, "you can bet that everyone knows about now."

Merlin pulled a face. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Prat."

Merlin hardly managed to duck the goblet thrown at his head.

**A/N:** So this is like my first attempt at something like this. It's probably awful, but it could have gone much worse, to be honest. I'm happy with it, I guess, especially considering I fucking hate Mordred. Hm.

Anyway~ Thanks for reading!


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